Love's Story (4 page)

Meredith gave Jonah a cutting look. “You said so just this morning.”

Jonah stared at her feet. “I said your clothes were sensible. By the way, those boots look comfortable.”

“We're wasting time,” Meredith said.

Silas brought around the horses and two pack mules. Meredith needed assistance mounting the smallest horse. She imagined her riding would improve on this assignment. For some reason this small challenge gave her great satisfaction, and poised straight in the saddle, she felt eager to start the assignment of a lifetime.

Meredith soon shed her self-consciousness where her clothing was concerned. No one gave her a second look. Loggers and miners passing through San Francisco were a commonplace event. The morning passed pleasantly without incident. Jonah pointed out the tall Call Building, which housed the San Francisco newspaper.

They boarded a ferry once, where Meredith marveled over the flocks of pelicans and caught a wonderful view of the Cliff House, a mansion turned into a famous eating establishment. After that, they mounted up again and turned their back to the hills and harbors of San Francisco with all its bustling civilization.

The trail meandered along the coastline, providing a fearsome sight. The edge of the earth broke off hundreds of feet above rock and water. At times the narrow path hugged so close to the cliffs that Meredith's heart would pound with fright, and she would force herself to think of something other than toppling over the bluff and into the slapping white foam so far below.

Her legs and shoulders ached, not only from the long hours of riding but from tensing her muscles in fear. Meredith welcomed every opportunity to dismount and stretch her miserable legs.
I might learn to ride better, if I live that long.

That night at camp, Meredith went for a short walk along the cliffs. A ship bobbed at sea, birds shrieked overhead, and the feel of the moist, salty air was cold against her face.

“Water as far as the eye can see.”

She jerked her head around. Silas gazed out over the scenic panorama. “It's incredible. Makes me feel like a tiny dot in the universe,” she said.

“Take a good look. Tomorrow, we're going to move inland.”

Their camp nestled securely within the shelter of some large rocks. Silas unloaded some supplies from one of the pack mules. He cooked their supper over an open fire. Meredith inhaled the food, then felt her eyes droop.

Silas nudged her. “Smooth out a spot, like this, for your bedroll.”

She followed his instructions, and before she knew what had happened, the light of day shone again, and it was time to climb back up into the saddle.

The trail turned rugged and hilly and wound through dense forest with trees huge and plentiful enough to stretch the imagination of any easterner, and Meredith wondered if conservation was even an issue here, in the West. That evening she felt sore and stiff, but able to do her part in setting up camp.

After their meal of smoked ham, beans, and biscuits, Silas pulled out a chunk of wood he carried with him and started to whittle. “I worried about this part of the trip. But you're an excellent outdoorsman,” Meredith said.

“I agree. I don't know how you do it, but you make us quite comfortable with our scanty provisions,” Jonah said.

“Just natural. I've lived my life in the wilds.” Silas laid the wood on his thigh, reached into his trousers for a pint of whiskey, and took a swig.

“How long have you been in logging?” Meredith asked.

“Most my life. I only regret I missed the gold rush. Course it didn't make my grandpap rich. The gold brought him, but he fell in love with the land.”

“Mm,” Meredith said.

“It does grow on you,” Jonah said.

“Wait until tomorrow.”

Meredith wondered if Silas would even be able to ride the next day, with all the whiskey he consumed. She fell asleep to tales about Silas's grandpap's gold-digging days.

But Silas rose sharp as the sole on a logger's boot. Meredith need not have worried. About midday, she found out what Silas meant the night before when he said,
“Wait until tomorrow.”

First, she heard it, a roaring sound coming from the hills, which grew louder as they rode farther up the trail. Silas stopped his mount, and then she saw the most beautiful waterfalls in the world.

They ate at the majestic spot. Jonah unloaded enough equipment to take photographs while Silas watered the horses. Meredith found a secluded place to sponge bathe. Afterwards, they followed the river west until they came to a shallow place, calm enough to ford.

On the far side, Meredith twisted in her saddle for a final look. “Must we leave it behind?”

“I reckon you want us to build you a castle here,” Silas said.

“No, I expect not. I enjoy civilization too much. But it is something to remember.”

They rode harder after that to reach the location where Silas wanted to camp that night.

The next day a different sight tugged Meredith's heartstrings, acres and acres of destroyed forests. The damage gouged deep into the woods and stretched a couple miles along the trail.

“What caused this, Silas? Fire?”

“It's just stripped from logging.”

“But it's horrible.”

“There's plenty more trees, ma'am. Don't worry about it none.” She cast Jonah a look of concern. “We'll have to take some pictures, Silas.”

It was time for the West to think about conservation.

A
fter several long days of travel, nights camping under the stars, innumerable saddle blisters, and unmentionable aches and pains, Meredith's horse trotted back into civilization. It was not New York, Chicago, or San Francisco, but a form of civilization. Meredith tipped her head back to peer out from under the abominable hat.

There was a hotel, a saloon, and several stores farther uphill, yapping dogs, barefoot children, but mostly there were men. She strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of skirt, or lace, or a pretty hat or two. A large sawmill prevailed over all of the other establishments, usurping more than its share of property, people, and town noise. It would be a good place to begin her investigation of the lumber world. The town was perfect, better than she had expected.

Silas delivered them to the front stoop of the only hotel in Buckman's Pride and bade them farewell. Meredith assured him they would meet again, and something in the twinkling of his eyes gave Meredith to believe that the lumberjacks would probably hear of her presence long before she stepped foot into their camp.

The elderly hotel clerk was courteous and kind enough to head them in the direction of permanent lodging. They had two options, get a discount price at the hotel or inquire with a Mrs. Amelia Cooper who oftentimes took in boarders. Meredith and Jonah made plans to bathe, change into proper clothing, and immediately search out the woman.

“My name is Meredith S. Mears, and this is my business associate, Jonah Shaw. We heard you might take us as boarders.”

“Glad to meet you. I'm Mrs. Cooper. You two married?”

“No ma'am,” Jonah said, hat in his hand.

“I don't allow any unlawful male-female goings-on….”

“Oh no.” Meredith shook her head. “I am a reporter from New York City, and Jonah is a photographer. We've come to do a story for
McClure's
magazine. We would need two rooms, and I can assure you that all that will be taking place between us is strictly,” she paused to smile, “journalism at its best.”

The woman, tall, large-boned, with a plain but pleasant face, studied them, hat to boot. Meredith made her own observations. The woman dressed and handled herself with social grace. Meredith could read Mrs. Cooper's mind.
One of those Eastern reporters.

“What kind of story are you doing?”

“One on Bucker's Stand logging camp.”

“Nothing harmful, I hope.”

Meredith flashed the woman a smile. “I hope not, too.”

“I see.” Mrs. Cooper took several moments to digest this. “I do have two rooms that I could let to you. Would you like to see them now?”

“Oh please,” Meredith said. She cast Jonah a hopeful smile, and they followed the landlady's swishing yellow gown, which was to Meredith an unexpected article in such a backwoodsy place. Mrs. Cooper paused for them to look into a formal but cozy parlor. It consisted of mahogany furniture with comfortable-looking quilted backs, a rosewood shelf clock, Victorian lamps with tassels and butterflies, a well-worn floral rug, and a fireplace.

Must be a wealthy widow stuck here for some reason.

They passed down a short hall and up a flight of stairs. At the far end of the upstairs hall, two vacant rooms were located across from each other.

“I only have these two rooms available, no other boarders right now.”

The first was small but furnished with a desk. “Perfect,” Meredith said.

“Would you have a small room where I could develop photographs?” Jonah asked.

“Hmm.” Mrs. Cooper rubbed her chin. “Let me think a moment.”

Meanwhile, Jonah inspected the other room.

“There's the shed out back.” Mrs. Cooper pointed toward the window. “Since my husband died, I only use it for storage. Things would have to be rearranged.”

“I'd have to hang my photographs.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I think we could work out something.”

“Good,” Jonah said. “When can we move in?”

“Tomorrow.”

Reporter and photographer waltzed back toward the hotel, exuberant over their good fortune.

“The lodgings couldn't be more perfect,” Meredith said.

“I agree. This is going to be a pleasant assignment. Buckman's Pride,” Jonah said with satisfaction, “a civilized place.”

Even though Meredith was just as pleased with their new accommodations and also excited about the assignment, she said, “I'll hold my judgment for a later time, on the West, be it wild or tame. But I do believe… Look! Look there. A dress shop. And there are hats in the window.”

Jonah peered through the glass at the display. “What do you think of the West now?”

“Well, the styles are certainly not the latest thing,” she said, “but they're fine enough.” She pointed. “Look at that yellow number with the green ostrich feather. It is most delightful.”

“It would go nicely with your brown riding skirt, better yet your men's trousers.”

“Scoundrel.”

He took her elbow. “Come along, Storm. We didn't come here to shop.”

As they started off, someone caught Meredith's attention. She didn't mean to stare, but the back of the man's head looked familiar. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and large arms bulged as they heaved supplies into the back of a wagon. Then he turned, and his face came into view. It was that man again! She swallowed and tightened her grip upon Jonah's arm. What was wrong with her? Just because he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen was no reason to ogle. She tore her eyes away and straightened her stance. He had been rude to her on the train and at the Outfitters. He was nothing to her. She would think about something else.